Soldier Boy
by Mandolin77
Summary: Kaim had just come back from yet another battle, another long day on an endless road of long days. He had no memories, no recollection of where he came from or any inclination of where he was going next. He was a wanderer in every sense of the word, with only liquor to come home to again.


The room was dark and noisy—the sort of place Kaim found himself almost every night. His glass was half-empty, the amber liquor gleaming in the dim light, and he stared down at his own reflection at the bottom of the cup, blinking slowly. It was late, long past twelve o'clock, and although Kaim was exhausted he didn't dare go to sleep. The nightmares had kept him awake for days.

He had just come back from yet another battle, another long day on an endless road of long days. He had no memories, no recollection of where he came from or any inclination of where he was going next. He was a wanderer in every sense of the word, with only liquor to come home to again.

A young man sat down next to him at the table—a soldier, from the way he was dressed, with his own glass clutched in one hand. He gave Kaim a small smile, genuine despite the exhaustion hiding behind it. "Hey. Mind if I sit here?"

Kaim shook his head and cleared his throat slightly to clarify: "No, go ahead."

The soldier boy's smile widened just a fraction as he set his drink down. "You were in that last battle back there, right?"

"Yeah." Kaim wrapped his fingers around the handle of his cup, watching as his reflection rippled.

"You been doing this long?"

_This. _Drinking, fighting, traveling, wandering—Kaim wasn't really sure what the boy meant, but he nodded anyway and took a sip of the liquid that burned as it went down his throat. "Longer than you've been alive."

"Really?" The soldier laughed and followed Kaim's example, downing half a pint in one swallow. "You don't look that old."

"I hear that a lot."

"It's a good thing, I think. Where're you from?"

"Nowhere." Kaim shrugged, pretending the words didn't hurt, and tried to force a smile of his own. The soldier recognized the pain and stayed quiet. "How about you? You got a home?"

"Yeah… couple days away still, but I'm getting there." He ran his forefinger around the rim of his glass, looking suddenly boyish and shy. "I have a sweetheart waiting for me out there, too. Liza. Prettiest damn girl you ever saw."

Kaim felt something stir in his gut, a warm feeling between sympathy and regret. "You're in love with her?"

"So much." He laughed a little at himself and took another mouthful of his drink. "So much. She's what kept me alive on that battlefield."

"Tell me 'bout her," Kaim invited. The soldier smiled.

"Liza… Liza. What do I say? I asked her to marry me before I left, and she said yes, and there's going to be a big wedding as soon as I get back. I wish I had a picture to show you."

Kaim nodded slightly and asked, "What is it you love about her?"

He sighed, a soft, dreamy look coming across his face. For just a moment, the darkness in his eyes was gone. "She's kind. She is the kindest person I've ever met, and I— I guess I need that now, don't I? After this war."

"I think everyone needs that," Kaim said after a minute. He couldn't pretend that he wasn't thinking about his own life.

The soldier seemed to know that, and he let the silence stretch between them while he nursed his own drink. Finally he murmured, "Is there a girl waiting for you?"

"I don't… like to talk about it."

"Yeah?" He nodded quietly, as if answering his own question. "Yeah. A lot of people are like that. Me, I need to talk, you know? I'm afraid that if I don't I'll forget about her."

Kaim gave him a tight smile. "Forgetting is what I'm trying to do."

"You don't want to remember her?"

"I don't want to try."

The soldier nodded again and raised his glass to his lips before setting it back down again. "I guess that's a kind of poison on its own, isn't it? And that's all there is to do—you can remember, or you can forget."

Kaim had to set his own drink at that, the statement was so startling and so true. You could torture yourself with the memories of things loved and things lost, or you could torture yourself by denying that what was lost ever existed... and Kaim was sure he couldn't survive a lifetime of doing both.

The other man stood up and smiled at him, that same brightness in his face that most returning militants never had. He reached out and touched Kaim's hand. "I hope you find her. I hope you find your Liza."

Kaim smiled—maybe the first real emotion to have crossed his face in weeks—and gestured towards the door. "I wish you a good, long, happy marriage."

"I only wish you the same." The soldier set down a pile of coins on the table, enough to pay for both their drinks, and shouldered his pack again. "Good travels, stranger."

Kaim nodded. "You, too."


End file.
